


no where, really.

by tochyaan



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Requited Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tochyaan/pseuds/tochyaan
Summary: “You can’t go anywhere without me, can you?” Lupin finally began.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	no where, really.

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't proof read this at all in fact i did this in an hour so dont read this expecting much

“Picture this,” Lupin had stated with his arms in grand gesticulation as he sat on the opposite side of the bed. “You and I on the shores of Cinque Terre with the best bottle of wine we got and the fattest diamonds in our pockets! Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

Jigen hummed quietly from his side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The room was strangely warm, unlike the past few nights spent in frigid isolation, yet the cheap sheets of the hotel room clung around his legs in a clammy cold sweat. The sharpshooter felt his heart constrict at the image of the halo of light from the bedroom window gripping Lupin’s figure in a vice like grip, the grandiose motions of Lupin’s arms making it far more difficult for Jigen to properly focus on his partner’s form in his recently roused state.

“Where the hell did that idea come from?”

“No where, really.”

Of course.

How very like Lupin to barrage what could have been the only sound sleep Jigen might get with a thousand (or perhaps million, depending on the diamonds) dollar plan. Still, habit pushed the man up upon his elbows to sit up and take in the disturbingly serene posture of his colleague.

Lupin sat with his eyes skyward, out to the great big world beyond the window with his hands planted firmly behind him on the bed as he leaned back with a contented sigh. The moon was a bright and merry waning gibbous, a stark blip of white pooling a spotlight unto the stage as the primary actor smugly sat and basked. It was that confidence that comforted Jigen in knowing that nothing changed, and that if Lupin was comfortable, he had no reason to dive for the magnum slumbering beneath the unused pillow next to his own.

“It’s the middle of friggin’ winter. Why the hell would you want to go there of all places?”

Lupin’s voice was a reedy lilt, sweetly singing in his own condescending yet familiar way. “My dear Jiji, that’s precisely why we ought to go! Beating the rush of tourism always guarantees the best results when you’re aiming for an actual vacation!”

“I’ll bet you’re trying to rendez-vous with that woman again. Don’t you dare drag me into it.”

It was accusatory.   
Transparent.   
It was met with an overly dramatic gasp.

“The audacity! Fujicakes, I’ll have you know, is currently in Barcelona wooing the proud owner of a very lucrative racing horse track.”

This was not news to the gunman.  
Fujiko had surprised him with constant contact ever since he’d holed himself away for the time being. It was alien and uncomfortable to hear her idly chat about her own current activities, possibly to fill the void of words on his end, but Jigen held a fond appreciation for the attempt. She had implored him to go looking for Goemon, but there was an understood respect necessary between all three of them that honored Goemon’s desire to be alone when he made that need very, very clear.

Still, Lupin didn’t know. And whatever Lupin III didn’t know was far more precious than all the gold in the world--the bafflement of the world’s greatest smart aleck was too good to resist. But before Jigen could throw out the latest barbed retort he’d been longing to dish out, Lupin held out a hand and waggled a finger warningly without so much as giving his right hand man a glance over his shoulder.

Softly, Lupin spoke. “It’ll just be you and I. Okay?”

With aching muscles and a steady exhale, Jigen sidled up and eased back against the mottled hunk of wood passing as a headboard to brush the hair out of his eyes. It had grown long and unkempt for the past few days, and he absentmindedly dismissed the pressing question of finally getting a haircut to transform him from the mangy looking hermit he was and back to the old self everyone knew. 

He lazily searched beneath the pillow and sheets for a cigarette, all the while listening to Lupin go on and on in a list of reasons why Jigen ought to accompany him, from parachuting to sleeping in until 4pm, to reasons that made his skin prickle and his heart ache upon remembering why he missed the bastard so terribly.

When he did find the crumpled cigarette inside the near-empty carton, he patted around for the lighter in vain until laziness and lack of motivation settled with chewing the stick in disgruntled concentration to Lupin’s rant. If he were to truly accompany this madman to Italy at the drop of a hat, perhaps it was time he got himself cleaned up after days of wallowing and waiting for...something.

Anything.

“Fine.”

“Hwuh? Did I hear that correctly?” Lupin twitched, perhaps by the reluctant agreement or perhaps from the suddenness of Jigen finally speaking out into the empty room. “I’m amazed you didn’t make me beg this time!” The jovial response made Jigen roll his eyes, but he slowly watched the surprise melt and ease into Lupin unfolding his crossed legs and leaning forward on his knees. 

“Oh, Jigen. It’s no good.”

Now Jigen was concerned.

He pushed off from the headboard and leaned forward. “Hey. Somethin’ on your mind?”

Not once did Lupin glance back. This of course, relieved Jigen to know that his most trusted companion couldn’t see him in such a miserable state, but the lack of eye contact felt as cold and distant as the room had been since he was alone.

He watched Lupin shake his head in refusal, and that was when Jigen finally untangled himself from the sheets and crawled to Lupin’s previously empty side of their bed.

The thief hung his head in quiet defeat, his eyes closed, and Jigen recalled the way those lashes fluttered in certain ways when the nights were long and there were conversations to share in both words and actions. Now, it was hard to gage how either word or action could serve him, especially when Lupin was like this.

Carefully, Jigen swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned against his partner, drinking in that warmth he’d missed for so long. To his relief, Lupin melded into his body and rested his cheek against the bullet wound on Jigen’s shoulder with a long and weary sigh, a wavering sign of the theatrics still lingering within.

“You can’t go anywhere without me, can you?” Lupin finally began. It was neither mocking nor accusing, but Jigen could feel the scolding on the horizon coming his way. “You stink.”

“This is what I get for comforting you?” Jigen scoffed, rolling the unlit cigarette in his mouth in a weak chuckle as a smile finally wormed its way back unto Lupin’s face.

“Hmph. That’s my line. I go through all this trouble to comfort you and check in on you and here you are living it up like you have all the time in the world. The very nerve.”

It was so very warm. Lupin’s cheeks were soft, and the tackiness of that douchey pomade Jigen had grown to love made that fluffy hair of his both tickle yet soothe the void of sensation that had grown so familiar to Jigen that he felt stinging in his eyes from the loss of something so simple.

“Keep that up and I’m locking you under my armpit, you twerp.” he croaked out a teary laugh as Lupin hummed in reply, still so patiently smiling under the moonlight.

“You love me.”

“I do.”

“Ooh! You finally, finally said it! After years of just goofing around, Jigen Daisuke finally professed his love for me! Enchanté, my filthy marksman--”

“Why did you have to go, Lu?”

Lupin’s eyes finally opened, blue-grey and hardened by the sudden, choking sobbing that rocked their conjoined forms, all coming from his companion. Jigen could still see that merry glint, that spark of life that promised mischief and adventure he thought he could never see again, and somehow he felt angry that the tears spilling forth made this moment so much harder to see.

There were so many emotions unlike Lupin to cross his features, from regret, to frustration, perhaps a flicker of a smile of denial, until the sorriness sank in and he was so much closer. Two warm, worn hands cupped Jigen’s face and slender fingers held him, a trained thumb swiping away the fat tears surging forth from the broken dam of a man who was so very, very alone.

“I’m sorry, Jigen. Truly, I am. I didn’t WANT to go, mind you. I--”

Jigen hiccupped, and Lupin flinched as he worried his lower lip in frustration. How stupid that even like this, the great Lupin III was ever lacking in the skill to convey his emotions truthfully. Jigen could only grip at those bony wrists for dear life, as if the wrong move would bid the thief away for good, little noises of sadness bubbling forth after what Lupin assumed to be weeks of bottling up.

“You….You can’t ju---just leave me like this.”

“I know.”

Jigen’s grip tightened. “You’re so stupid! You’re so fucking stupid, you left Goemon and Fujiko behind, and, GOD, Zenigata, and--and---”

“You. I know.”

“Why didn’t you take me with you?!”

Lupin said nothing. He pressed his forehead against Jigen’s and said nothing, and Jigen could only wrack out tiny, minute little sobs as the cigarette tumbled from his lips and his friend quietly hushed him and wiped away his tears.  
JIgen’s chest ached. It sang, it roared, it bellowed for something he could never have--and the only person who could ever steal that one thing was gone.

It remained like this for what seemed like hours, Jigen’s face buried into Lupin’s coat as soothing circles were rubbed into his back and Lupin’s awkward knack of fearing any sort of emotional vulnerability finally waned into his grieving companion. He spoke softly into Jigen’s matted hair of how beautiful the shores of Cinque Terre would be, and how nice it would be to feel the cold ocean breeze and to sleep in until 4pm.

“Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

Lupin smelt of his Gitanes, of the hotel soap they made do with the morning he was shot on the heist, and strangely of the grass of a hill Jigen dreamt of so many times where they would lay, side by side.

Slowly, they crawled into bed to allow Jigen the chance to hold on for as long as he could, with Lupin stroking his hair and uttering sweet nothings and so many “I love yous” until Jigen’s sobbing would eventually wane like the moon in the sky, gently robing them in a dying light as the morning came.

“I want you to promise me something.” Lupin whispered into the paleness of the cold room, and he giggled when Jigen’s beard tickled his collarbone when he moved to gaze upon his grinning face.

“No.”

“Oh come on, Jiji.” Lupin pursed his lips until Jigen eventually offered an empty, pleading look of reluctance. The great thief brought the gunman closer, sighing as he stroked his hair and shared a heartbeat. “I want you to go everywhere and anywhere. Go where I would go. Meet me at every promised meeting spot ever known to us. Bring Goemon if you gotta.”

“Lu--”

“And I want you to go anywhere, without me.”

The lump in Jigen’s throat threatened to choke out his words, but he swallowed thickly as he agreed to the final crazy plan Lupin would ever have him follow. Jigen blinked back the tears and felt cotton in his mouth in a vain attempt to speak, but Lupin was never a man to allow his counterpart the last word.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Y’know, you never were really good at saying what’s on your mind, Jigen.” Lupin’s cheeky smile soothed the building ache in Jigen’s chest, ready to burst at any second. “But that’s fine. I know you don’t have to think about it anymore. You and me. You already answered that years ago.”

Jigen said nothing when Lupin pressed what might have been the softest kiss beneath his eye, but he shook so violently that he hoped the man holding him wouldn’t waste what little time they had to rant about it. All Jigen could do was to take in as much of Lupin as possible and drink in every detail before the many years he promised to live out could erase them from his mind and rob him of the last of Lupin III.

Those bright grey eyes sparkled even in the dim light of the breaking dawn, shimmering diamonds, and the priceless laughter lines Jigen had grown to adore were so very clear that the halo of light behind them from the wide world beyond the window made this goodbye so much more clear.

“Lu.”

“Actually, promise me two things. That you’ll do what I asked, and that you take a shower and cut your hair a little. You gotta take care of yourself. You’d kick my ass if it were me. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You promise?”

Jigen awoke with a start. His hand was slowly wound around the grip of his magnum beneath the unused pillow of the hotel bed, and his head throbbed dully from being so suddenly jolted awake that he groaned and turned his head to face the window.

The daily business of the street could be easily heard from where he lay, and judging by the irritating rays of light pooling into the sun-bleached wood of the ageing floor, it was well past noon. Flickers of dust dancing in the light distracted him for a moment until he could finally unwind his fingers from his beloved weapon and sit up in bed.

With a quick glance to the window, there was no evidence of it ever being opened, with the dust and mold in the framework undisturbed by any quick footwork or slender fingers made for breaking in. There was no imprint on the bed, and the side where another body had enough room to lie upon was undisturbed.

The room was cold and empty.

His jacket remained strewn over the chair, his hat upon the table. Life was still going on outside of his hotel room, and the great Lupin III was no longer alive.

The ache remained, and the temptation of remaining in bed beckoned. Jigen wanted to hide away under the covers and ignore yet another call from Fujiko, or perhaps the sombering text from a grieving inspector. He wanted to remain unconscious for just a little longer, because maybe, just maybe...Lupin would appear again. 

But he could still hear it so very clearly.

“Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

And it did. The idea of the cold whipping air of Cinque Terre and sleeping until 4pm beckoned. He wanted to know if the idea called to Goemon, who’s disappearance into the wilderness of god knows where tugged at the strings of Jigen’s heart to the point of feeling, and that maybe Goemon needed that reminder to feel in turn.  
He felt...that he needed to ask Fujiko to hurry up and swindle the horse-racing douchebag in Barcelona faster, so that maybe he could tolerate a glass of the best wine they could get their hands on and chat, with the fattest diamonds in their pockets.  
Perhaps he needed to allow Pops to cry on his shoulder.

Slowly, Jigen sat up and closed his eyes. It was….going to take a lot. And he despised the idea of being the one to offer the invitations--but somehow, it felt as if something had to be done to keep going.

For now, he would have to start with a shower...after he had his morning smoke.

As Jigen eased out, muscle memory bade his searching fingers the location to the crumpled pack of Marlboro’s tucked beneath the sheets, and while he chewed away at the sorry excuse of a cigarette in search of the lighter, he went over the dream in his head in silent dedication. There were 2 cigarettes left in the carton then, and there were still two left now.

It was only a dream, after all. His mind’s way of coping, his final resort to keeping himself steady and sane. But it was everything, he thought to himself, and if it was all he got then he would count his blessings and take it.

It was just as Jigen was about to admit defeat in his search for a lighter, he caught a faint glimmer of light from the nightstand on the opposite side of their bed. Cautiously, as if the light would flutter away if he moved too quickly, Jigen padded around the bed and quietly took in the shiny, silver object standing out obscenely from the old wood of the nightstand.

If he had any doubts then, they were certainly inexistent now.

The lighter was much too familiar to fail to recognize, from the etched in scratches to the childish grinning peanut of a caricature grinning merrily back at the wide-eyed marksman. 

Jigen could only scoff, a weak smile curling his lips at Lupin’s final attempt at lighting his cigarette.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> i listened to kenshi yonezu's "lemon" too much and got emo also i dont write often so pls do not perceive me


End file.
